While Harlan distracted the guard, Noble, Argus, and Tora closed in on the camp and waited in front of what had become the entrance until Harlan had led the guard into the forest. Once they felt certain the guard would be gone for some time, they moved into the camp.

Noble had explained to them what he had in mind, but he still wasn’t sure they’d be able to carry out his plan. It all depended on the size and weight of the equipment scattered around the camp. If it was too heavy he’d have to come up with Plan B. But if there were a few pickup trucks or—even better—cars, his original plan would be fine.

In the center of the camp was an office trailer that Noble figured had a phone, computer, coffee machine, and maybe a few cots for loggers to sleep on. There were two smaller trailers, one of them a faded turquoise, the other the color of a rusty nail. Parked around the perimeter of the camp in a lazy semicircle were some of the company’s heavy equipment, including a stripper, a loader, and a Peterbilt tractor with an empty flatbed. They were too heavy for Noble’s use, but fortunately a half-dozen personal vehicles belonging to the loggers were parked around the three trailers. Four of the vehicles were full-sized pickup trucks and two of them were fully loaded with equipment. The third had a diesel fuel tank in its bed, and the fourth was empty. Of the two remaining vehicles, one was a small-sized pickup while the other was a four-door compact car.

That was the one they’d start with.

Noble ran around to the car’s front end and changed his shape. One moment there was a large wolf standing in front of the car, hind legs on the ground and front legs resting on the hood. The next moment there was a six-foot tall werewolf hunched over the front of the car, its body a mass of rippling muscle and ragged fur. Without a word, Tora and Argus followed his lead. By far the most impressive change belonged to Argus. Well over six feet in human form, Argus topped seven feet as a werewolf, his human form and power seeming to double as he changed shape. Tora’s transformation wasn’t as dramatic, but she grew in size and strength while retaining the distinctive whitish-yellow streak that flowed down the fur along the back of her head to just past her shoulders.

“What?” asked Argus, the word coming through as a rough whisper, as if two pieces of sandpaper had been rubbed together deep down in his chest to make the word.